


Crashing Back Down

by loves_books



Series: Flying High [2]
Category: Lewis (TV)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-15
Updated: 2014-09-15
Packaged: 2018-02-17 13:35:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,130
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2311463
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/loves_books/pseuds/loves_books
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The morning after the night before, James wakes up lying on Lewis's couch.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Crashing Back Down

**Author's Note:**

> This is the sequel to 'Flying High' as requested by several readers.

It wasn’t quite a hangover, but James could certainly tell that something wasn’t quite right when he woke up lying on Lewis’s couch, a soft pillow bundled beneath his head and a familiar blanket wrapped around his body. 

Not the first time he’d slept on his boss’s couch, of course, not by a long shot. But his memories of how he’d got there weren’t usually quite so blurred and indistinct.

“Here, lad.” A soft whisper – Lewis, naturally, and James blinked his eyes open to see the older man kneeling by the coffee table in front of him, a pint of water in one hand and a mug of coffee in the other. “Water first, now. The paramedics said you’d probably be dehydrated.”

And with that, some of the events of the previous afternoon came rushing back to him. The drugs raid, the fire. Choking on acrid smoke, unable to clear his lungs for the longest time as he coughed and coughed until he thought he might vomit. Then giggling helplessly as the world shifted around him in the blink of an eye, everything shining bright and new, the sun burning hotter than it ever had before. 

Definitely not a hangover. He’d been stoned out of his mind.

James felt an immediate flush of embarrassment creep up his cheeks, a slight terror taking over from the confusion as he wondered what on earth he might have said or done whilst under the influence. He slowly pushed himself up to a sitting position with a soft grunt, realising as he did so that Lewis appeared to have removed his tie, belt and shoes but had left him in his trousers and shirt. Thankfully the room didn’t spin around him too much as he sat, even though at the first hint of movement his head had started to pound relentlessly, the early morning sunshine feeling as if it was stabbing straight through his bleary eyes and into his brain. It took everything he had to resist the urge to squeeze his eyes shut again and simply go back to sleep.

Dehydration, Lewis had said, and water certainly sounded like a very good idea before James could worry further about what he might have done. With a nod of thanks he gladly accepted the glass from the older man, who was watching him carefully with a slight frown visible on his forehead. “Thank you, Sir,” he murmured, finding he wasn’t quite able to meet Lewis’s gaze just yet, a little afraid of what he might see there.

But the other man simply patted him on the knee once, through the blanket which had pooled around James’s middle when he’d sat up, before moving back to sit in the armchair without comment and watching as James obediently drank the water. It did seem to help; the pounding behind his eyes eased rapidly, and a relieved sigh slipped from his lips before James reached for the coffee, recognising the smell of the good beans he knew Lewis couldn’t usually be bothered to use. It warmed his heart to think that his boss had used them that morning, most likely just because of him.

He could feel his governor’s eyes on him as Lewis sipped from his own mug, but the silence held until they had both drunk most of their coffee, and the caffeine had started to kick in. Nicotine would have been useful too, but James wasn’t quite up to venturing outside for a cigarette just yet.

“How are you feeling, then?” Lewis eventually asked, and James flinched in spite of himself, feeling that heat of embarrassment rising again at the question.

He chose to take it literally at first, and forced himself to look directly at his boss for the first time that morning. Lewis’s blue eyes were concerned, and slightly amused, but not judgemental. James took strength from that, taking a quick inventory of his body before replying honestly. “Not bad, surprisingly. A bit hung-over. Headache, and pretty tired still, if I’m honest.”

Tired was an understatement actually. James felt almost as if he could sleep for a week, and Lewis nodded as if he’d expected that answer. “No rush. We’ve got until lunchtime to check in at the station, and Innocent says you’re not to go in at all if you’re still not right. Told me to take you to a doctor if you needed one. Might not be a bad idea?”

No judgement at all, thank heavens, though now there was a definite flash of humour alongside the question in those bright blue eyes.

“No. Another couple of hours sleep should do it,” James eventually decided, eyelids already drooping heavily, just as his stomach gave an audible rumble. “And food, perhaps.”

A gentle laugh from Lewis as the other man stood, draining the last of his coffee and moving towards the kitchen. “Wondered if those belated munchies might kick in. Let me see if I can’t rustle up something involving eggs and bacon.”

It would normally be James making the breakfast if he’d slept over, but that morning he simply let himself sink back into the corner of the couch, tucking his feet up underneath him and settling the blanket more comfortably around his legs. His suit was already rumpled beyond belief, after all, so he might as well be comfortable.

Something about Lewis’s last words rang a faint bell though, as a few more bits and pieces of the previous afternoon started to surface in James’s still-foggy mind.

“Did we have a conversation about crisps?” he asked quietly, almost nervous to hear the answer, and Lewis’s laugh drifted through from the kitchen.

“You wanted Doritos. Were quite insistent, in fact. I didn’t have any, but you were willing to settle for those steak flavoured ones instead.”

James had spotted the abandoned bag of McCoys on the coffee table even before Lewis finished speaking. They were open but clearly untouched, and he shook his head slowly, wrapping his hands around his now-empty coffee mug. “I like steak,” he murmured to himself, though Lewis obviously heard.

Yet another laugh, coupled with the sound of a frying pan clanging against the top of the oven and the unmistakable sizzle of bacon frying. “You said that yesterday,” Lewis called back to him. “There were quite a few other things you liked too, as I recall.”

Stripy ties flashed immediately into James’s mind for some reason. His boss had worn a striped tie yesterday for the first time in memory, though he was back in a more sober navy blue this morning, clearly already showered and shaved and dressed for work. James felt like a slob in comparison, but the blanket was a good shield at this point and he really didn’t want to leave his cocoon until he had to, feeling safe enough there to try to pick through the fragments of his memory.

“There was a dog, I think?” Putting down the mug, James rubbed at his eyes with both hands, trying to wake himself up a bit more. He really needed a cigarette. “And something… something was fabulous?”

“You were high as a kite, James. Took a shine to some poodle you saw on the street. And the whole darn world was fabulous – the trees, the birds, the clouds, the car. Your hands, even.”

“Oh.” His hands were long and pale and far too bony, and James didn’t quite know what to say. He did have vague memories of finding everything extremely amusing – the whole world had seemed to be painted in neon colours, all of it so much larger than normal, and it had all been quite spacy. Floaty and out of focus somehow, the trees towering over him, the car driving at a hundred miles an hour. Quite scary now, looking back on it all, sober and drained, the colours of Lewis’s familiar flat back to their neutral tones once more. “I do hope I didn’t do anything too… silly.”

“Not too silly, no.” Lewis emerged smiling from the kitchen with two plates, both piled high with scrambled eggs and bacon on toast, and James’s stomach growled again as the smell of breakfast hit him hard.

The older man waved him back down when James started to unfold himself from his cocoon on the couch, flopping carefully next to him instead and handing over one of the plates and some cutlery. The faint sounds of music on the radio from the kitchen reached James’s ears as they started to tuck in, falling into an easy silence as they each balanced their plates on their knees rather than moving to the table.

This was something James always cherished about spending time with Lewis, off duty and relaxing together like this. There was never any need for mindless chatter or small talk to fill the quiet moments, not even after a day like yesterday. They had always been able to just relax in each other’s company, from the very first day they’d met, with no pressure or expectations.

Hope, though. There was always hope, on James’s side, though he kept it carefully hidden. Hope for something more, someday, maybe – if and when Lewis ever gave him a sign that he wanted James’s company as more than just a friend. But friendship was more than enough, more than he’d ever expected when they first started working together.

Side by side, they each worked their way steadily through breakfast, and James couldn’t believe quite how hungry he actually was. He had no idea if he’d eaten dinner last night – the untouched crisps suggested not, and he could only presume he’d passed out before getting that far. He’d only managed to snatch half a sandwich yesterday lunchtime, before the raid, and so the cooked breakfast was much needed. The scrambled eggs were a little rubbery, and the bacon and toast were both more than a little burnt around the edges, but it was still possibly the best breakfast James had eaten for a long time, and he told Lewis exactly that.

The older man shook his head with a soft snort of disbelief, but still managed to look pleased at the same time. “Just that cocktail of drugs talking,” Lewis suggested, taking James’s empty plate from him and setting it on the coffee table beside his own. Shifting a fraction closer on the couch, he turned sideways to face James, and murmured, “Let me just check something.”

Before James knew it, Lewis’s warm hands were on his cheeks, tilting his head gently towards the light. And towards Lewis. For one ridiculous, hopeful, heart-stopping moment James thought his boss might lean in and kiss him, but Lewis just stared deep into his eyes, a thoughtful frown of concentration appearing on his forehead.

After a minute had passed, James felt himself starting to blush again at the gentle touch and intimate eye contact. “Sir?” he breathed, and Lewis blinked twice, dropping his hands away as if burned.

“Checking your pupils.” Ah, that made sense. More sense than a kiss, at least. Lewis added, “They were wide as dinner plates last night, all black. Much better now – in fact, I’d say they were back to normal. I think you’re okay, man. Or getting there.”

Other little memories were stirring in James, flashes of moments and thoughts and images drifting slowly to the surface. Things he’d done or said or wondered about, all of which had seemed incredibly important, though now they appeared trivial in the extreme. And alongside each memory was Lewis, right there by his side the entire time, a warm and solid presence. An anchor keeping James from drifting too far away. Keeping him close to the ground when he was flying far too high.

He wasn’t quite sure what he was going to say, but he opened his mouth and started, “Sir, about yesterday – ”

“James, don’t worry.” Lewis reached over and dropped one big hand onto James’s knee again. “You didn’t say or do anything too crazy, which was impressive in itself given how high you were. You didn’t hurt yourself. You didn’t hurt anyone else or break anything. And I got you away from the other coppers before they saw you giggling too much, though I’m sure you’ll be in for some teasing when we get into work. Don’t think I’ve ever seen you giggle before.”

Oh, no. No, no, no. James hadn’t even thought about the other officers at the scene until that moment, too worried about what Lewis might have been thinking of him. And Innocent had been there too, of course – James had a vague memory of commenting on her dress, a black and white checked number which had somehow reminded him of Alice in Wonderland. Had he called her the Queen of Hearts? He half-remembered shouting ‘off with their heads’ at some point, or perhaps he’d only thought about shouting it. Oh god…

For a horrible, endless second, James felt panic rising in his chest, threatening to choke him. He was always so careful to keep himself under tight control, to not give too much of himself away, especially around his colleagues. It was one thing for Lewis to have seen him accidentally stoned on assorted illegal substances – the two of them had seen each other at their worst before, and James trusted Lewis far more than he trusted himself – but for anyone else to have seen him as high as he’d obviously been, what would they have thought of him? What else had he done? What would they all say?

But in the next second, the overwhelming panic passed as quickly as it had arrived, though James still felt a little sick with nerves. Lewis had been with him the whole time, he remembered that much. Lewis had kept him safe. Lewis would always try to keep him safe.

“Thank you, Sir,” James said again, trying to put as much weight to his words as he possibly could. He feared they came out more as a choked half-sob though, as his chest suddenly felt a little tight.

That big, warm, wonderful hand patted his knee once more before moving to his shoulder and squeezing gently, anchoring James and soothing him. Lewis offered him a slightly lopsided smile, and another memory slid quietly into place in James’s mind.

And this time the panic did set in properly, leaving James wide-eyed and gasping. Panic at what he might have said and done, and what he might have given away. He could blame the drugs, of course, but oh, no, how stupid, how could he – 

“Breathe, James, come on.” Lewis’s voice was suddenly far away, and James squeezed his eyes shut as he dropped his head and leaned forwards, bracing his forearms on his thighs. “Easy, there. You going to be sick?”

Lewis slid his hand around from shoulder to upper back and started to rub slow circles between James’s shoulder blades, and gradually James managed to slow his breathing enough to be able to shake his head in response to the other man’s question.

“Did I kiss you?” he managed to gasp in horror, dreading the answer, which came without hesitation.

“Yes, you did. Only on the neck, though, and then the very next moment you passed out on me.”

Not quite the next moment, James remembered that much, wishing with all his heart that he could be anywhere but here. He knew he hadn’t passed out immediately after the kiss, but he wasn’t quite clear on exactly what he had done next. He did have a strong memory of being held safely and securely. A memory of being cradled by a strong pair of arms against a solid chest, of the comforting and familiar scent of Lewis filling his nostrils. Then no memory of anything at all until he’d woken on the couch earlier that morning.

“I passed out in your arms,” James said slowly. “And you held me.”

“Of course I did.” One strong arm tugged him upright and into Lewis’s side, as the older man continued softly, “You needed to be held, I think.”

James found himself moving closer, dropping his head down to rest on Lewis’s shoulder as that strong arm wrapped around his shoulders and held him safe. “You didn’t have to,” he heard himself say.

“I know, but I wanted to. I’m sorry if I crossed a line, but you needed me. And it was nice to be needed.”

“Thank you.” James closed his eyes, inhaling the musky scent of Lewis’s soap and aftershave, letting the familiar smell fill his lungs as it had done last night. The last of the tightness in his chest seemed to fade, and he breathed deeply, slowly. Eventually he found the courage to ask, “Did I… did I say something? To you, I mean? About you?”

“You just told me you liked me. ‘Best of all’.” Lewis chuckled softly, the sound vibrating through his ribcage and into James. “That’s okay, lad – I like you too. Told you that yesterday.”

Was that really all he’d said? He had no reason to think Lewis would lie to him. Relief flooded through James as he realised that perhaps he hadn’t given himself away entirely after all. He hadn’t declared his undying love for the other man, hadn’t leapt on him and tried to snog him senseless. A kiss on the neck and a bit of a cuddle didn’t seem so bad, maybe, not in the grand scheme of things – nothing Lewis would hold against him, at least. Lewis was an honourable man, and a good man. There might be teasing, but no revulsion. There might be a way back from this.

But Lewis was still holding him now, that arm tight around James’s shoulders in an undeniable embrace. James tried to sit up, needing to pull himself together and gather his scattered thoughts before he could decide if he was up to facing work later, or if he should just go back to his own flat and hide in his bedroom with the quilt pulled up high over his head. “Sir, I should really – ”

“No rush, James. No rush at all. If you’re tired, go back to sleep. I’ve got you.” To James’s surprise, Lewis brought his other arm up, tugging him closer still, and in his shock he let himself be tugged.

It would be so easy, to drift back off to sleep held safely in strong arms, but James forced himself to remember where he was and who was holding him. His boss’s living room. His boss’s arms. Entirely inappropriate, as much as James might want it. Inappropriate when he wasn’t stoned, at least. And he was reasonably sure he wasn’t still stoned.

He reluctantly lifted his head from Lewis’s shoulder, prepared to apologise and try to explain himself, even if he wasn’t prepared to pull away entirely just yet. As he did so, his eyes locked with the older man’s piercing blue gaze. They were so close, their mouths just inches apart, and again James couldn’t shake the strange feeling that Lewis might lean closer and kiss him.

So when Lewis actually did kiss him, though not on the lips sadly, James was somehow unsurprised. Perhaps he was still high after all. Perhaps those tiny amounts of cocaine and cannabis and goodness knows what else were all still floating lazily through his bloodstream, and this was nothing but a feverish dream – it was the only explanation he could think of for the gentle press of the older man’s lips to his forehead in an undeniably tender gesture. 

It was more than just a fond kiss from a friend, though. More than just the kiss of a father figure to a younger man, and more than just comfort or pity. James didn’t know how he knew, but somehow he just did – this was Lewis making a statement, a wordless offer. This was a kiss of intent, with the promise of more if James wanted it. 

He closed his eyes, leaning into the kiss as Lewis tightened his arms further around James’s tired body. He found he was smiling, though the whole thing seemed absurd in the extreme. He had to be still flying high, surely. This couldn’t be real. He could enjoy it while it lasted, and pray he remembered it all when he came crashing back down.

“Is this alright?” Lewis murmured eventually, sounding both hopeful and nervous, his lips still pressed to James’s forehead. Blinking, James lifted his head a fraction, and suddenly reality seemed to solidify around them both as Lewis hesitated for only a second before kissing James on the lips for the very first time. It was feather-light, gentle, chaste almost, but again there was intent there. 

This was really happening, James realised as the older man pulled back from the kiss, suddenly breathing hard. Lewis was really holding him when he didn’t need to, hugging him and keeping him safe. Kissing him. The thought was nearly overwhelming for James, yet still it didn’t send him into another panic. 

Rather than answering out loud, not quite trusting himself to find the right words or his voice to remain steady, James tilted his head down slightly and pressed an open-mouthed kiss of his own to Lewis’s neck, right above his racing pulse, letting his lips linger. At the same time, he dared to slide his own arm down around the older man’s hip, pulling himself closer and fitting their bodies more snugly together.

“Not crossing a line, then,” Lewis whispered, his voice stunned and sounding almost as amazed as James felt. “Thank goodness.”

James dropped his head further after a moment and curled his long body in towards Lewis, settling his ear over the other man’s heart with a soft sigh. “You’re nowhere near any lines, I promise.”

The radio continued to play in the kitchen as another comfortable silence fell over the two men in the living room, though James could tell things had changed between them now, and would continue to change. For the better, hopefully. The thought of change didn’t scare him as much as it should – it was exciting, and nerve-wracking, but somehow not terrifying.

“Don’t think this means I won’t be teasing you later, James,” Lewis suddenly told him. “You told me there was a penguin in the sky. And that the plants were laughing at you. And you did pass out in my arms.”

Ah, there was the man James knew and loved. Not that he’d tell Lewis that just yet. “I was unwillingly high,” he mumbled with a smile, letting his eyes drift slowly closed as sleep started to beckon once more. “Not my fault, Sir.”

“Less of the ‘sir’, please, while I’ve got you in my arms like this.” Another soft kiss to the top of James’s head, and there were nerves again in the older man’s voice when he added, “Robbie, James. My name is – ”

“Robbie,” James breathed happily, barely able to believe what was happening. And then, in the very next moment, his stomach growled loudly once again, making them both laugh; this was definitely real. He reluctantly let himself be lifted away from the older man’s chest, mumbling a token protest as he flopped back into the cushions, “Robbie…” 

But Lewis pushed determinedly up to his feet and stretched, smiling down at him. “Stay there, you. I’ve got enough eggs left for round two, though I’m sorry to say there’s no more bacon.” After a split-second hesitation, the other man leaned down and stole another kiss, far less chaste this time, and if James’s hungry stomach hadn’t rumbled yet again, he knew he would have wrapped his arms around Lewis’s shoulders and pulled him straight back down, unwilling to ever let him go. 

Instead, James sank back and stretched his arms out, feeling his stiff muscles protest slightly after a night spent more or less unconscious lying on a couch. There would be more time for talking later, though perhaps they wouldn’t need to talk at all. They had never talked much, after all, not about the important things. More kissing would be good, certainly, though James needed more food first, then sleep, and a shower and a shave too. A cigarette would also be very near the top of the list. Get the last of yesterday’s drugs out of his system once and for all. 

He might have been flying high, but as he listened to Lewis moving around in the kitchen again, James had the definite feeling he wasn’t crashing any longer. Lewis – Robbie – wouldn’t let him crash and burn. They’d come back down to earth together, and see where they stood when all was said and done.

And James could hardly wait.

**Author's Note:**

> Again, this is unbetaed and was written fairly quickly, though I did spend a bit longer editing this myself than I usually do. I find it difficult to write dialogue so I hope this was close to what people hoped for.


End file.
